


The new sexy

by JaqofSpades



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Community: wishlist_fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm gagging on the inside,” she snarks, and prays that he can't hear the truth in her voice.   He laughs knowingly, and she hates this, wanting to jump the man she's just accused of kidnapping the school mascot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The new sexy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Koryou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koryou/gifts).



> Written for wishlist_fic on LJ; for koryou (realitysend) to the prompt: 'Veronica Mars. Weevil/Veronica: “You know, I always knew you had a thing for me, but I never thought you wanted me for my brain.” “Didn't you know? Brains is the new sexy!” and no, she hadn't meant to say that out loud.'

Veronica shucks herself of Betty's pink wardrobe, and is surprised by just how relieved she is. Once upon a time, these had been her clothes, and while she might not have worn them all together, all at once … now, she'd really prefer not to wear them at all.

She grins at the memory of Weevil's double take, and tries not to read too much into the sour look on his face when he saw her dressed up as the sheep she used to be. He makes no secret of the fact he likes her short skirts and biker boots – even if he hadn't told her straight up, the way he looks at her makes it very clear. 

And if she finds herself wishing he would do more than just look, well that's just her hormones talking. She'd never let herself get involved with such a shady character. No more involved than they already are, anyway. Not that they're involved that way ...

She doesn't want to be, either, she reminds herself as she watches him hold court over the PCHers. His teeth are flashing and his swagger is in full force, and it's not even vaguely attractive. It's annoying, she decides. Plain unhelpful when he's like this, buried so deep in his street persona that he might even ignore her when she walks up. And technically, she's accusing him of a crime, so she should probably have surprise on her side. 

Veronica moves around the edge of the quad in the shadow of the building, then walks out quickly onto the ledge overhanging the PCH'ers domain. Weevil has his back to her, leaning against the wall, making it easy to bend down and speak straight into his ear.

“How's our feathered friend?”

“Excuse me?” 

Weevil does incredulous well, she'll give him that.

“You took the parrot, didn't you? You're taking even money bets on a team everyone thinks will win. Why would you do that unless you knew that Wallace, our best player, wouldn't play?”

Weevil's eyes widen in surprise, but it's the amused curl to his mouth that makes her pulse start to hammer.

“You know, I always knew you had a thing for me, but I never thought you wanted me for my brain,” he purrs, and it's dangerous, that voice, so velvety and seductive that she overreacts.

“I'm gagging on the inside,” she snarks, and prays that he can't hear the truth in her voice. He laughs knowingly, and she hates this, wanting to jump the man she's just accused of kidnapping the school mascot.

“Come on Veronica, do I look that smart? I'm just a simple bookie. I got both sides of the line covered. And ask yourself this. Why would I help you find the parrot if stealing the parrot was my secret plan, huh?” 

She snorts and rolls her eyes, and the words leave her mouth before she can call them back. “Because smart bookies help their nosy friends look in the wrong place! Don't undersell yourself Weevil - brains are the new sexy!”

Shocked laughter erupts around her, but Veronica is too busy watching Weevil's lips twist into a satisfied smirk to be bothered by what his boys have to say. She refuses to panic, and there's no time for it, either - Weevil is leaning in, taking a deep breath, his eyes fixed on her own. She's desperate to hear what he's going to say, and the way her heart is slamming in her chest – is it fear or anticipation? Both, she admits as she watches his tongue slick over ridiculously full lips. Oh God, both.

“No kidding, chica.” He leans up until she can feel his breath warming her cheek. “Known that since the first day of junior year.” 

He backs away with a smirk, silencing his cackling homeboys with a single look. The pack moves off, and Veronica slowly releases the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. She looks up then, and finds him studying her across the courtyard, eyes serious. He nods, just once, and she gulps because that's code for “I'll find you later.” 

She drops her face into her hands and groans because the butterflies have kicked up again and this giddy, expectant feeling is bad. Very, very bad, she tells herself – tonight she's going out with Leo, and she might even be still pining for Duncan. She's not supposed to be shivering in the wake of a conversation with the local crime lord, let alone planning assignations with him.

Especially when she still doesn't know whether he stole the goddamn parrot.

*

He ambles up behind her as she leaves bio, then tugs her into the shade of the overhang behind the science block. 

“Looking to revise your knowledge of cellular division?” she snarks, and his smile is slow and devastating.

“This hot girl I know told me brains were the new sexy,” he says casually. “Trying to impress her.” 

She leans forward as if to share a secret. “Cellular division isn't going to quite cut it. Maybe a lead on a missing parrot? Or … I know! Who, exactly, is covering your bets?”

He laughs ruefully and shakes his head. “Always on the job, aren't you Mars? Don't you ever get sick of being all business?”

“No! Not .. at …” Veronica swallows as his hand slides into her hair, tugging at the short locks, “...all,” she sighs as he starts to massage the nape of her neck, crowding her back against the wall. 

“You sure?” he whispers, and God. His tongue, tracing the outer edge of her ear. The tiniest of touches but it's going to drive her mad. Her pride demands she say yes, but her arms have already looped themselves around his neck, and her head is tipped to one side to give him as much room as he needs.

“No. Or yes. Or no? Whatever,” she groans, and Weevil takes the green light at speed, trapping her against the brick with the full weight of his body. 

Oh no, Veronica thinks desperately. How is she expected to keep her head when her entire world has shrunk to solid muscle and hot skin? Now's the time to panic, she thinks faintly, and maybe that's what happens because when he drops his head, she lifts her lips and they're kissing, in broad daylight, at school.

Insanity.

It's so good she wants to drown in it, so she opens her mouth and they're no longer kissing, they're making out, tongues and teeth and his groin nudging hers and moans and oh fuck, his hand on her belly, stroking. He's asking “you like that?” and she has no filter, none, and it's all “God, yes,” and “mmm, Weevil, more,” as she yanks his mouth back to hers.

Veronica is dizzy with the taste of him by the time the insistent clang of the last bell finally registers. Weevil lifts his head with a groan, presenting her with the column of his neck, delicious, bare skin that she can't help nibbling at, just for a moment, just before they go in, she tells herself. She's slipping her hands under his wifebeater again when he grabs her wrists with a muted curse.

“Dios, V. Necessitamos parar. Fuck. Gotta stop,” he mumbles, his own lips already returning to suck their way down her neck.

“Mmm, yeah. Just a moment more.”

“We gonna be naked in a moment, chica.”

“Mmmm.”

“At school,” he reminds her. 

“Jesus. Oh God.” Veronica blinks in shock, then looks around slowly. No jeering gangboys. No disgusted 09ers. No one but her, and Weevil, and the total and utter inability to deny something had happened between them.

“Tell you a secret,” he whispers into her hair. “The way I want you? Scares the shit outta me, chica.”

She doesn't trust him for a minute, and she hates feeling out of control, and she's really, really not sure about this, but … she feels good, for the first time in months. Scared, yes, but it's the giddy kind you get before you jump off the diving board, the excitement in your gut before the rollercoaster plunges downwards.

So she stands on tiptoe and and whispers “likewise” against his lips, before pulling away to head for class. 

When she glances back over her shoulder, his smirk is practically claiming the last word, and she can't have that. So she swings around, puts some extra sway in her hips, and tilts her head.

“Hey Weevil! Scary is the new sexy!” she calls, firing imaginary duelling pistols his way in a quick one-two before she turns away again, grinning.

*

The giddy feeling evaporates when she remembers her date with Leo.

She wants to cancel, but she can't think of a convincing excuse. The truth is out of the question – she has no idea what it is yet. So she might have some sort of weird sex thing going on with motorcycle boy, but they're hardly even friends, let alone anything else. No one's admitting anything, and he hasn't asked her out, so ...

Leo doesn't think she's scary. Leo calls her cute, and sassy, and too smart for her own good. Leo hasn't got a frigging clue who she is, but he's sweet and uncomplicated. Not to mention useful, so she smiles prettily when he knocks at the door, and orders herself to have fun.

They run into Duncan and the urge to rub her new beau is his face is irresistible. She's flirty and vapid and my God, she hates herself. Leo laps it up, and he wants to kiss her and she thinks – why not? Maybe he'll be able to make her forget all about the other boys...

Maybe the man she'll dream about tonight won't be short and dark and criminally inclined.

Leo's kisses are no more than nice, and her dreams are a restless montage of revving motorcyles, sepia skin and uniformed men dragging her belligerent lover away.

*

Wallace is weaving all over the court, managing to be in ten places at once, and Veronica's having a hard time trying to keep track of him. Maybe that's why she doesn't sense Weevil until he's right behind her, hot breath playing over her ear. Her heart leaps, and she prays he can't see her goofy grin.

His anger is like a smack in the face. 

“How was your date?” he sneers. “Deputy dawg drop enough green?”

Veronica closes her eyes. It's just boy drama, she tells herself. You've dealt with worse. This is nothing.

But it's not. It's not nothing, and she needs to deal with that. Later.

“I'm sorry – you're stalking me now? Well, Weevil, you're joining a very exclusive club if you're looking to say, piss me off. Or are looking to scare me off like all my other stalkers? Maybe beat me up?” she attacks, whirling around to look him in the eye.

He rears back, affronted. “Didn't follow you. Told the boys to keep a look out.”

She raises an eyebrow in question, and he looks embarrassed. “You like to bite off more than you can chew, Mars. Maybe I like it when you owe me.”

A huge roar from the crowd saves her from having to think about that, reminding them both that they're at a school basketball game, and probably the subject of several hundred pairs of eyes.

“Any idea what happened?”

“Hell no.”

“Not a fan, then. So – you're just here to watch the game. Make sure Calvin starts, and Wallace doesn't?”

“Naw, I'm just here to see a girl. Thought we might'a been starting something. Obviously, I was fucking wrong.”

“He's my best friend, Weevil. Sometimes he's my only friend!”

“And that's the only answer you need, V. I wouldn't _do_ that to you,” he hisses with so much vehemence that she immediately knows it's the truth. That she's trampled on far more than his pride, and last night's date with Leo was the least of her mistakes.

But it doesn't change anything. It doesn't, she insists. And there's no use hiding from the fact. 

“Honest is the new sexy, Weevil.”

He groans and leans back in the seat, every line of his body muttering of anger and resentment as he stares at the gym ceiling far overhead. Veronica ignores the intriguing flash of multicoloured skin to concentrate on maintaining her game face. (If she falters, even once, she might just end up sobbing into his jacket, and neither of them can afford that.)

“Guess that's my fucking ultimatum, then.” He shakes his head in disgust, and pushes up to his feet, even takes a few steps before he turns back to look her in the face.

“You're all kinds of sexy, Veronica Mars. But you ain't honest. You lie to yourself about who you are, and who you wanna be, and who you wanna be with. The truth is right there in front of your face and you pretend not to see it because it doesn't suit you. Just like any other 09er,” he says sadly.

“I'd say I ain't helping you no more, but thing is? I know I'd be fuckin' lying, so yeah, you come to me when you need a favor. But you keep your flirt to yourself until you figure it out, chica, because we're not friends and I ain't gonna stand in line.”

Veronica doesn't see him leave. She doesn't hear the game start up again, or see Wallace score three baskets in a row. The world is a shaky blur, and her brain is too busy screaming at her to process any other information.

He's right, of course. She hasn't let go of old Veronica, who thinks she's still in love with Duncan, and quite likes the idea of Leo. Old Veronica wants her mother back, and her best friend, and her neat little quartet. Old Veronica would cross the street to avoid the leader of the PCH Bike Club, and maybe it's her doubts and fears causing problems now. 

That's got to be it, she thinks desperately. Solve this case, get Lilly the justice she deserves. Get tougher, get smarter, never be vulnerable again. Soon, I won't even care about what Weevil thinks, she vows, rubbing her temples to push away the tears that are threatening. Won't even remember his name in a year or two. I won't feel like this, I won't …

*

Veronica's world has shrunk to the Castle, and Gory fucking Sorokin, and the need to just survive this week, let alone her freshman year. Weevil's shout stops her as she speeds around the corner of the Hearst library.

“Anything you need, V. I'm there,” he says, and she doesn't even need to look him in the face to know it's true. It's always been true.

She wants to tell him that, but now's not the time. She's got a pervert to catch, and some vengeance to wreak.

She thinks it, though.

Loyalty, Weevil. Loyalty is the new sexy.

And two weeks later, when he sends her a row of question marks in response to her text, she turns up at his door to convince him in person.

His kisses still make her dizzy, and neither of them have learned any self-control, but that's okay, Veronica thinks desperately. No school bell, thank god. No inconvenient boyfriends. Nothing to stop them this time.

Just her, and Weevil, and all the sexy, waiting to be explored.

 

_fin_

 

Disclaimer: This fanfiction was written for personal enjoyment rather than profit. No infringement on the rights of the intellectual property owners is intended.


End file.
